Day by day, Dragon and Swain continued their training routine without fail. Each morning began the same way, with both of them pushing and lifting the massive stones that Darius had assigned to them.
Over time, the rough pieces of earth that they struggled to move at first began to lose their jagged edges, becoming smooth and rounded from constant friction against the ground.
It reminded Darius of the old myth of Sisyphus, endlessly pushing his boulder uphill, but unlike that tragic figure, Dragon and Swain were slowly turning their suffering into progress.
Every repetition made their movements sharper, their balance steadier, and their muscles more defined.
Of course, Darius didn't allow their days to consist only of strength training. Once the sun reached its highest point and began to lower in the afternoon, Darius would call the two over for their sparring sessions.
These sessions were far more brutal than the earlier exercises, as Darius pushed both Dragon and Swain until they could barely stand.
It was during these spars that Darius tested not only their physical ability but also their mental toughness and instinct in battle.
He wanted them to learn to react without hesitation, to move as if survival itself depended on it, because in the future, it likely would.
Swain fought with primal ferocity, often leaping forward on instinct, while Dragon tried to analyze Darius' movements and adapt as best as he could.
Both approaches had their merits, and Darius often used the opportunity to correct them mid-fight.
When Swain got too reckless, Darius would parry him with the flat side of his axe and say, "Strength without thought can still be crushed by skill."
When Dragon got too cautious, he would flick his finger at his forehead and remind him, "Thinking too much in battle will only get you hit first."
These small lessons added up over time, building both of them into more complete fighters.
Even while training them, Darius never let his own body or skills stagnate.
He understood very well that the difference between talent and mastery was discipline, and he had every advantage that his bloodline offered.
His Buccaneer heritage granted him tremendous endurance and raw power, while his descent from Garp gave him an incredible base of physical toughness and explosive strength.
On top of that, the Essence of the Barbarian still coursed through his veins, amplifying his resilience and natural regeneration.
Darius knew that if he didn't take advantage of these gifts, then all the effort he had put into reaching this point would be wasted.
For that reason, he created his own balanced training system.
While Dragon and Swain worked on the basics of strength, speed, and awareness, Darius focused on refinement and precision.
He began developing his personal fighting style, one that mixed the power of the axe with the principles of swordsmanship.
Although Darius favored an axe for combat, he often recalled the lessons that Zoro's master had taught in the manga—principles about intent, flow, and spirit in each strike.
Even if those teachings were meant for swordsmen, Darius adapted them to fit his own weapon and fighting nature, merging raw strength with technique.
During one quiet afternoon, Darius stood alone by a clearing, his axe embedded halfway into the ground beside him.
The wind blew softly through the trees, carrying the faint sound of Swain and Dragon's sparring from a distance.
Closing his eyes, Darius focused on his breathing, trying to steady the flow of energy in his body.
He had begun working on his Haki training recently, something that fascinated him deeply, especially since he had the knowledge of how Haki worked from his past life.
He started with Armament Haki, basing his method on what he remembered of the Wano samurai's Ryuo technique.
He would focus his willpower into his hands and arms, channeling the energy outward instead of letting it settle only on the surface.
At first, the sensation was strange, like his body was both heavy and light at the same time, but after repeated practice, he began to feel the faint pressure of his energy extending beyond his skin.
Sometimes, when he struck a tree or stone, it cracked even before his hand fully connected, showing him that the flow of force was beginning to take shape.
Observation Haki was more simple. For that, Darius took a more unorthodox approach.
Remembering how Rayleigh had trained Luffy by forcing him to fight blindfolded, Darius tied a thick black cloth over his eyes and began practicing in silence.
Without sight, every sound became clearer—the rustling of leaves, the distant growl of Swain, the faint shifting of Dragon's footsteps as he practiced in the background.
He tried to sense the intent in the air rather than just the noise.
The first few days ended in frustration, as he stumbled or got hit by falling branches, but Darius didn't stop. He knew this was the right path to awakening his awareness.
When Dragon or Swain noticed him training like that, they were often curious. Dragon even tried to mimic him once, but quickly gave up after walking into a tree.
Darius only laughed, telling him, "It's fine. This one's harder than it looks. You'll understand it later when you're ready."
Over the next few weeks, a quiet rhythm formed in their lives. Morning was for pushing and lifting, afternoon for combat and technique, and evening for focus and reflection.
The repetition made every day blend, but that was exactly how Darius wanted it. Strength was not born from random bursts of effort but from consistent willpower over time.
Watching Dragon's steady growth and Swain's evolving instincts, Darius couldn't help but feel a certain pride building in him.
He wasn't just training them for the sake of strength—he was preparing them for survival in a world that respected only the powerful.
----------
A full year had quietly passed since Darius first began his rigorous training with Dragon and Swain. The changes were visible to anyone who saw them.
Dragon had grown taller and sturdier, his confidence starting to match his brother's. Swain had transformed from a small wolf pup into a powerful beast with thick muscles and sharp instincts.
And Darius himself looked even more formidable, his frame larger and denser with muscle, his movements sharper, and his aura calmer but more dangerous.
On this particular morning, the air around Dawn Island was filled with the sounds of heavy impacts and loud bursts of laughter, as Darius and Garp were seen sparring in the clearing behind their home.
Garp had returned only a day earlier after several months away on marine duty, and as soon as he set foot back into the village, Darius had immediately challenged him to a fight.
It was not out of arrogance, but out of excitement. He wanted to see how far he had come, and Garp, of course, was happy to oblige.
Darius charged first, gripping his large axe tightly with both hands.
He spun the polearm around his body to build momentum before swinging it down toward Garp with great force. The sound of metal cutting through the air echoed through the clearing.
Garp casually raised his right arm, coating it with a thick layer of Armament Haki, and blocked the strike with his bare fist.
The impact made a small shockwave that scattered dust around them, but Garp didn't move an inch.
Right after the clash, Garp countered with a heavy punch aimed straight for Darius' chest.
Darius managed to twist his body just in time, dodging the blow, and then spun mid-air to deliver a quick kick aimed at Garp's torso.
The kick landed, but Garp caught his foot before it could follow through.
'Oh, that's not good,' Darius thought immediately, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the grin spreading across Garp's face.
He knew that expression very well, and it only meant one thing—Garp was about to stop holding back.
Without hesitation, Garp lifted Darius off the ground by the leg and slammed him down, creating a small crater beneath them. Darius gritted his teeth but didn't let go of his weapon.
Before Garp could lift him again, Darius twisted his upper body and swung his axe sideways, forcing Garp to let go to block the attack.
The axe, coated faintly in Armament Haki, clashed against Garp's forearm with a deep metallic sound.
Taking advantage of that moment, Darius spun on his heel and flipped backward, landing neatly on his feet.
He exhaled once, then lunged forward again. This time, he leaped high into the air, raising his axe above his head before bringing it down with all his strength.
The blade struck Garp directly on the head, creating a loud impact that echoed across the forest. However, when the dust settled,
Garp was still standing in the same spot, unharmed, his head completely covered in Armament Haki.
"Ohh, it seems that you're really trying to kill me, you brat," Garp said with a wide grin, showing no sign of anger, only amusement.
His tone carried the kind of laughter that only came from a man who had been through countless battles.
"You say that like you're any better, old man," Darius replied with a grin of his own, resting the axe on his shoulder for a brief second.
The two locked eyes, both smiling in a way that only family could—competitive, stubborn, and full of unspoken respect.
For a few moments, neither moved. The forest around them went quiet except for the faint rustling of leaves.
Then, as if by silent agreement, both charged at each other again. The sound of their clash was deafening.
Darius' axe met Garp's fists again and again, the ground beneath them cracking from the repeated impacts.
Dust and leaves flew everywhere, and even the air seemed to tremble from the force of their movements.
Dragon and Swain were sitting nearby on a large rock, watching the sparring session unfold with wide eyes.
Dragon had seen his brother fight before, but seeing Darius go up against Garp was something else entirely.
The sheer power behind their movements was enough to make him gulp nervously.
Swain, sitting beside him, let out a low growl, his instincts sensing the immense pressure from the two fighters.
The sparring continued for hours, neither side giving in easily.
Garp's laughter echoed through the clearing every time Darius landed a hit, and Darius couldn't help but laugh as well whenever he managed to force Garp to block or step back.
It was less like a teacher-student fight and more like two forces testing each other's limits.
By the time the sun had begun to lower, both were still standing, their bodies covered in sweat and small bruises, yet their expressions showed nothing but satisfaction.
Dragon and Swain hadn't moved the entire time, fully engrossed in the battle that seemed to have lasted nearly five hours.
When Garp finally lowered his fists, he looked at Darius with a grin that mixed pride and challenge. "You've grown stronger, Darius. Not bad at all," he said simply.
Darius rested his axe on his shoulder again, smiling slightly as he replied, "You're still too tough for me, old man. But next time, I'll land a hit that you'll actually feel."
Garp's laughter filled the forest again, loud and full of life, as the two headed back toward the village, with Dragon and Swain trailing behind them.
It was another day of training, another test of strength, and another reminder of how far Darius had come—and how much further he still wanted to go.